


Shaking, Crying, Planes in Storms

by philsdrill



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), dan and phil
Genre: Anxiety, Claustrophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction, Travel, Vomiting, phanfic, tw vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 18:53:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philsdrill/pseuds/philsdrill
Summary: Dan is extremely claustrophobic and suffers a bad panic attack on the plane home from vidcon, but Phil is by his side, there to help. A surprise awaits them at the airport, and again, Phil has to help Dan. However, once they’re home, a video on his anxiety puts everyone at ease.





	Shaking, Crying, Planes in Storms

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on uploading my fics from tumblr to here, so if you happen to have seen it before, I posted this in early 2016 on there. Also if anyone's interested in following me on tumblr - I'm more active on there and there's more fics - you can find me at [philsdrill](https://philsdrill.tumblr.com).

Dan and I were amongst the last to board the plane. It wasn’t that we were late. It wasn’t that we’d fallen asleep in the departures lounge and missed the announcement. It wasn’t that we’d had to fight aliens to get through passport control. The delay had taken the form of me trying to persuade Dan that we would get home safely, that he wasn’t going to die on the plane.

His anxiety hadn’t been particularly considerate in the last few days. Vidcon hadn’t been as enjoyable as usual, with him having a panic attack whenever we had to walk through too big a crowd. I felt terrible for having to push away fans, but they would understand if they knew what was going on with Dan. I wish he would tell them, it would make things so much easier, but he was adamant that he could cope, that he wanted to keep this to himself.

The claustrophobia didn’t help his fear of flying. He felt trapped on an aeroplane, unable to escape to somewhere with more space, more privacy. To help matters, I would always book us the best seats, the ones with the most space and room to relax. He would still be scared and panic, but it lessened the severity to an extent.

We stepped onto the plane, and I showed the flight attendant our tickets. She pointed us to the left, towards the front of the plane, “Down to the left,” she told us.

I didn’t know how far along on the left the seats were, but as we got closer and closer to the cockpit, a feeling of dread started rising inside me. They were all taken. Staying calm for Dan’s sake, I suggested that maybe the lady had got mixed up and the seats were in fact on the right. To my great disappointment, these seats were also all taken.

“Phil, all the seats are taken,” Dan said to me, his voice full of worry.

“It’ll be alright,” I told him, “I’ll talk to one of the staff.”

I approached the flight attendant who had greeted us when we boarded the plane, barely two minutes ago, “Excuse me, I can’t find our seats. They all seem to be taken.”

“Let me see,” she said, studying the tickets I held out in front of her, “Okay, follow me.”

We followed her back along the plane, until she stopped alongside a couple and asked to see their tickets. I waited to see the result, Dan stepping from foot to foot nervously, by my side.

“I’m sorry gentlemen,” she said, turning to speak to us, “Your seats seem to have been double booked. Fortunately, we have two spare seats in economy class so you can still make the flight. The airline should be able to issue you a refund when we land.”

I turned to look at Dan. At least we could still fly, but economy class, he was almost having a panic attack and we hadn’t even taken off yet.

“Can we have a minute to think about it?” I asked her.

“No. The plane should have taken off already,” she told us, “We need your decision as soon as possible - either to take the economy seats or to go back into the airport and wait for another flight.”

I looked to Dan, needing his opinion on the matter.

“We’ll take the seats,” he said boldly to the flight attendant.

“Great, follow me then,” she said, walking down towards the back of the plane, “And we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

Dan and I followed her. I took the opportunity to make sure he was really alright with this.

“Dan, are you sure about this?” I asked him.

“Yep,” he replied, “I don’t want to have to wait around for another plane; just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“Okay, there are the seats,” the flight attendant announced, stopping and pointing along a row.

Sure enough, there were two empty seats, but they were right in the middle of a line of six, also right in the middle of the area of seating.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dan gulp nervously.

“Are those the only seats? I asked, “There’s none that are less… in the middle?”

“No, sorry gentlemen, that’s all.”

“Dan’s just really claustrophobic,” I explained, “There’s no way we can swap with anyone?”

She shook her head. I tried to think of some other way of getting better seats but my mind drew a blank.

“I’ll be fine,” Dan told me, projecting his voice enough that the flight attendant lady would hear too.

“Come on then, take your seats; luggage in the overhead locker during takeoff and if you need anything during the flight, just talk to one of the crew.”

Dan and I did as she said, lifting our backpacks into the overhead locker and then squeezing along the row to our seat, apologising to the two ladies we had to get past. We sat down and barely had our seatbelts on before the plane started to move along the runway. There was no going back now.

The seats were as cramped as you would imagine for two six-foot-something tall men. Dan’s knees pressed up against the seat in front; mine were very close to doing the same.

“You okay?” I asked Dan, predicting the answer would be a ‘no’. He didn’t look happy, the fear obvious on his face: wide eyes and biting his lip.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Phil,” Dan said, looking at me.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” I told him, “I’m right here if you need anything and once we’re up in the air you can put a movie on, get your mind off it.”

Dan nodded uncertainty.

The plane turned a corner and started picking up speed, preparing for take off. Dan shakily reached out his hand and grabbed mine, clutching it tightly, a look of intense concentration on his face. I brought my other hand around his too, sandwiching it between them and softly rubbing the back of his hand.

The plane left the ground and began its ascent into the sky. It seemed to take forever, with Dan’s hand squeezing the living daylights out of mine. However, eventually we were high enough up that the plane levelled out.

The seatbelt light went off and Dan released his grip on my hand to undo his seatbelt. He let out a deep breath and shakily inhaled a new one.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” I said to him, trying to invoke some positivity in him.

“I guess…” he muttered.

“Do you want to put a film on?” I asked him, gesturing to the small screen on the seat in front of him.

“Yeah, that might be an idea,” he said, now moving to plug in his headphones and select a film.

I waited until he seemed relatively into his film before picking out one for myself. Most of the next hour passed by, me giving Dan the odd sidelong glance here and there to check he was okay. Everything was going fine…

That was until we flew into a patch of turbulence. The films paused and an announcement played, telling everyone to stay in their seat with their seatbelt on. The seatbelt light went on. The plane began to shake.

Dan fumbled with his seatbelt, failing to fasten it up as his hands shook. I reached over and helped him, fastening it just as the plane began to shake more violently.

Dan gripped the armrests so tightly that the back of his hands were white, skin stretched across his knuckles and veins prominent.

The man to Dan’s left looked down at the hand that had suddenly gripped their shared armrest, then up at Dan. What I presumed was a concerned look crossed his face.

“Is he alright?” the man asked me, as I made eye-contact with him.

“Erm,” I said, unable to give a definite answer to his question, “He’s really scared of flying and has an anxiety disorder.”

“There’s nothing I can do to help, is there?” the man offered kindly.

“Thank you but not really,” I told him, “Just keep as much distance as you can from him. The cramped seating doesn’t do him any favours.”

I could sense that he wanted to ask more, maybe about why we were flying, or why we weren’t in first class with more space. However, he left it be, possibly realising that I needed to help Dan.

“Dan, take my hand,” I told him, prising his fingers off of the seat arm, “And it’s alright if you squeeze it a lot, okay.”

Dan’s hand fell into mine, not relaxing whatsoever and now grasping my hand in his vice-like grip. His palm grew sweaty and moist, the longer he held it there for.

The shaking increased in magnitude and I saw tears pricking at the corner of Dan’s eyes.

“Dan?” I said, worried.

“WE’RE GONNA DIE,” he half-yelled in despair, voice cracking on the last syllable and sobs breaking free.

“We’re not,” I told him, “A bit of turbulence is perfectly normal, okay.”

“We’ll I feel like I’m gonna die then,” he cried, choking on sobs as he spoke.

I brought my other hand up to the side of his face and gently turned it round to face me. “Look at me, Dan,” I told him, “Try and copy my breathing.”

Without moving my hand away, I made my breathing more obvious so he could try and copy, “Innnn. Ouuut.”

He was starting to breathe more normally, when another bout of shaking overtook the plane.

“I feel sick,” Dan groaned, “There’s… there’s not enough space. I need space. Need to get out of here.”

“It’s going to be over soon and then you can go to the toilet, okay,” I told him, watching as he stared angrily at his seatbelt, “Or do you need the sick bag.”

“Yes, I need the fucking sick bag,” Dan complained impatiently, putting his hand over his mouth, tears now rolling freely down his face. He shoved my hand away from him, “And can you get the hell off me.”

I frantically dug through the seat pocket in front of me, desperately hoping that there was one of the airline-provided vomit bags. I didn’t know how long it would be before the inevitable happened.

At last I found it and triumphantly raised it in the air. I hastily opened it and held it in front of Dan.

“You wanna hold it?” I asked him, gently placing my hand on his arm.

He nodded, not flinching at my touch, and hesitantly moved his hand away from his mouth to hold the bag instead.

I slid my now free hand behind him and laid it on his back, rubbing slightly in an attempt to be comforting.

I felt it coming before anything else, a rumbling sensation rising up his back. He lurched forwards, a gagging sound emerging from his throat as he hid his mouth in the bag.

A second passed and he stayed frozen in that position. Then it happened: that distinctive ‘heuughhh’ sound, followed by that of the vomit hitting the inside of the bag.

Almost instinctively, I brought my arm properly around his shoulders in a half hug. He curled into my embrace slightly, while still having his mouth in the bag.

He coughed a few times and spat in the bag, then hesitantly moved it away from his face.

“You done, Dan?” I asked him, “Can I seal it?”

“I.. I think so,” he said, sounding a bit unsure.

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll get the other one handy just in case.”

I sealed his bag of puke, not daring to look inside as I was a little squeamish. I laid it on the floor, underneath the front of our seats, but out of the way of our feet. I rummaged around in his seat pocket this time and brought the sick bag to the top, leaving it sticking out so it could be grabbed if necessary.

I leant back in the seat and put my arm around Dan again. He was still crying, maybe even more so now. I didn’t really know what to do; I wished the turbulence would stop already. I don’t know what would happen if it didn’t stop - would he be a shaking, crying mess for the whole flight? I hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

“Do you need anything?” I asked him, still keeping my voice in it’s most comforting tone.

“Water, maybe?” he said, unsure about it.

I had a look in our stuff, but we didn’t have any left between us. I’d need to get some after the turbulence from the food trolley, but we’d have to wait for that.

“We don’t have any left,” I told him, “I’ll get it as soon as I can; I’m sure the turbulence will stop soon.”

“How the fuck would you know that?” he snapped, “Never made it to weatherman, did you?”

“No, but it never lasts much longer,” I tried to explain.

Dan ignored me, but leant his weight against me and dipped his head down, tiredly. I narrowed the gap between us as much as I could, my arm around him protectively. A few minutes passed by and it seemed the turbulence was going away. Dan was shaking a bit less too now.

My attention had been solely focused on Dan for the last two minutes, ever since the turbulence had started. Only now did I take the opportunity to see how the rest of the plane was coping. The majority of those I could see were like me, slightly shaken, but overall not terribly bothered. A few people looked a bit scared, but none were having a panic attack like Dan. The man to Dan’s left moved his eyes to meet mine. It hadn’t crossed my mind at the time, but he was sitting right next to Dan when he threw up; I should apologise.

“We’re sorry about this,” I told him, not moving my arm from Dan, “If it’s of any consolation, you won’t catch anything.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” he said, giving me a small smile, “I understand it’s hard for some people. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Umm…” I said, thinking. Would it be weird to ask if he had an unopened bottle of water? Hmm, I guess I was never going to see him again and he seemed nice enough, “You don’t happen to have an unstarted water do you?”

“I think you might be in luck,” he said pulling his bag up from next to his feet, “Yeah, here you go!”

He passed me a bottle of water, and true to his word, it was unopened. I know you’re not meant to accept food from strangers, but it was still sealed, a brand I’d heard of and it was an exceptional situation.

“Oh and take these too,” he said, giving me a pocket-size packet of tissues.

“Thank you so much,” I thanked him, “That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s alright,” he said, “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to… I never asked your names.”

“I’m Phil and he’s Dan,” I told him.

“Okay, Phil. I’ll let you get back to looking after Dan now,” he said.

I thanked him once more and he turned his attention back to his other neighbour, a lady who I guessed was his wife.

I brought my hand to Dan’s cheek and guided his head to where I could see him properly. Taking one of the tissues, I wiped around his mouth. Currently there was no point in trying to dry under his eyes but I wiped the area lightly anyway.

I opened the bottle of water and gave it to him, then watched as he shakily lifted it to his mouth. He had a few sips and then reached for the lid to put back on.

“You not having more?” I asked him, a bit worried; the small amount he’d drank wouldn’t be enough.

“But I might throw up again if I do,” he mumbled.

“That doesn’t matter,” I told him, “You need to stay hydrated, it’s extra important when you’re on a plane.”

“But then I’ll need to pee,” he complained.

Now, for most people, going to pee on a plane wasn’t too big a deal; they’d make their way to the aeroplane toilets and go about their business like usual. However, for Dan it was terrifying. On the way to America, he’d almost had a panic attack in the tiny room as he fumbled with the lock to try and get out. He thought he was going to be trapped in there.

“Dan,” I said sternly, “Please, you need to drink. Try not to worry about the toilet, we’ll tackle that obstacle when we come to it.”

Begrudgingly, he gave in, lifting the bottle back to his lips and taking a longer drink. The plane escaped the zone of turbulence and was now flying smoothly - it probably wouldn’t be very long before we were allowed out of our seats again.

I was right. Just seconds after I thought that, the light went off and an announcement was played, informing us that the brief period of turbulence was over. I immediately reached over to unbuckle Dan’s seatbelt, and then my own.

I opened my arms and glanced at my lap, inviting him for a hug. He crawled over onto my lap, a small smile flashing in his eyes. It wasn’t easy in the confines of an economy class seat, but I think he managed to get himself comfy, back to the lady next to me and feet dangling into the area in front of his own sheet. He then rested his head my shoulder and let out a sigh.

I wrapped my arms around him, glad that he wasn’t feeling too claustrophobic for a hug. He was still trembling slightly and sniffling periodically but it looked like his panic attack was pretty much over.

“It’s alright bear, I got you,” I whispered to him, comfortingly, “You’re alright.”

“Thank you, Phil,” Dan replied, nuzzling further into my shoulder, “I love you, you’re the best.”

“I love you too, Dan,” I told him, pressing a small kiss to his forehead.

We stayed sitting that way for quite a while. I did notice the judgemental glances of some of the other passengers but they had seen Dan’s panic attack and would understand to at least some extent.

“Phhilll,” Dan spoke to me, “As much as I’m enjoying this hug, I’m still on a plane and I can’t get the thought out of my mind.”

“Do you want earphones?” I asked him, “You can pick some music to block out the noise and try and imagine yourself somewhere else.”

“Yeah, that might be good,” he replied, “Do you have some on you or will I need to get up?”

“I think I might,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and rummaging, “Yep, got them.”

I triumphantly pulled the earphones out of my pocket and began the process of disentangling them. A few minutes later, I plugged them into Dan’s phone as he chose what to listen to. He slid the earbuds into his ears and shut his eyes, trying to imagine himself away from the current situation. I decided I might try and sleep; I wasn’t sure how possible it would be with Dan curled up in my lap but I might as well give it a try.

“Dan,” I said, pulling one of his earphones out so he would hear me, “Sorry for interrupting your zone, but I’m going to try and sleep. Don’t worry, you don’t need to move, but please wake me up if you need anything.”

“Okay,” he said, giving me a small smile and returning the earphone to his ear.

I leant back in the seat, shut my eyes, and let the force of sleep take over my brain.

—–

It was voices filtering into my unconscious mind that eventually brought me to a state of awakeness.

“Phil…. on his knee… Phan… might wake them up…”

It was a disjointed string of words and didn’t really make much sense until I opened my eyes. The couple next to me had left their seats, presumable to visit the toilet or stretch their legs. Now standing at the end of the row were two teenage girls. I knew from an instant they were fans, putting two and two together with the voices. They looked at me with wide eyes, noticing I was awake. I pushed my glasses up my nose and turned my head slightly to face them.

“Hey,” I spoke softly.

“Hiiii,” one of them, with blonde hair, squeaked excitedly.

“Okay, now, I’d love to talk but Dan’s not feeling too great and I don’t want to wake him up,” I explained, “But how about you come back later in the flight or we can talk in the airport afterwards.”

The girls looked at each other and nodded, an excitement in their eyes.

“May we ask what’s wrong with Dan?” the other girl, with blue hair, asked.

“He’s not good with turbulence,” I half-explained, not telling the whole truth because Dan wouldn’t want that.

I felt like my explanation wasn’t very good, leaving a lot to be wondered. The girls didn’t seem to believe it one-hundred-percent, but then, when was I ever a good liar?

“Also,” I started, gesturing to Dan on my knee, “Can I ask to you not mention this and delete any photos you took. I’m sorry but we don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or make more rumours.”

“Of course,” they nodded simultaneously.

“Alright see you later then,” I said to them.

“Bye,” they replied cheerily.

I was glad they were respectful of our privacy. Obviously we didn’t go around publicly displaying affection everywhere; it was only at times like this, when I put Dan’s wellbeing over the privacy of our relationship.

Speaking of Dan, he still seemed to be asleep. I didn’t quite know when he had gone to sleep - presumably just after me - but the snuffly snoring noises he was producing told me that he was. Surely he couldn’t be comfortable, all curled up like that, but I wasn’t going to disturb him. I’d rather he slept as long as possible, even if it was uncomfortable for both of us. It was better than him having another panic attack.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, I shuffled around a little underneath him, trying to get some circulation back into my legs. I did wonder about lifting him back onto his own seat, but I wasn’t sure how possible that would be. Just as I had got comfortable again, my neighbours returned from wherever they’d been on the plane.

They were talking loudly. I don’t know what made them think they had the right to do that when half the plane was trying to sleep. I had a good mind to complain, but seeing as Dan still had earphones in, I felt they might not be convinced. They didn’t seem to be disturbing him anyway.

What came next was very abrupt, but obviously accidental. As she sat down, the lady next to me elbowed Dan hard in the back.

“FUCKING HELL. WHAT THE FUCK WAS…” Dan swore, his hand moving to the injury, and angry at being woken up.

“Shh..” I had interrupted him, “There’s children on the plane.”

Dan’s eyes went wide as he remembered his surroundings.

“It’s okay,” I told him, pushing his hand away and gently rubbing his back with my own hand.

“H-how long until we land?” he asked me.

I picked up Dan’s phone from next to him my lap and looked at the time, “Another four hours,” I told him.

“Ughh,” he complained.

“You’ve slept through most of it,” I reminded him.

Dan nodded.

I looked at the lady next to me; she hadn’t apologised. In most cases I wouldn’t have called her out on it but I was feeling brave today.

“Excuse me,” I said to her, “Are you not going to apologise? You woke him up.”

“And? Planes are noisy, everyone wakes up,” she said, ignoring the fact that she had sharply elbowed him.

“I’m sorry,” I said sarcastically, “But it’s not the noise I’m talking about. You elbowed him.”

“Yeah, well it’s not my fault that you two fags are sharing a seat and not giving me enough space,” she said rudely, swiftly turning away to ignore us.

“EXCUSE ME,” I said, trying to get back into a position to defend us; however, it was lost on her as she profoundly ignored us.

I turned my attention back to Dan. That lady wasn’t worth fighting with. Dan let out a little sniff and looking into his eyes, they were welling up with tears.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him, “Just ignore her, okay? I told him quietly, “She’s not worth it.”

“It-it’s not that,” he cried, shuffling around in my lap.

“What is it then?” I asked.

Dan stayed quiet.

“Is it just the plane still?” I asked, calmly.

Dan nodded, but I felt there was something more to it than that.

“You aren’t feeling sick again, are you? Do you want some more water?”

“No,” Dan said firmly, moving around some more.

That was when it clicked.

“You need to pee, don’t you?” I asked him.

Dan nodded, tears now spilling from his eyes and trailing down his cheeks.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I told him, “I’ll come with you.”

“But…” he started.

“You are not holding it until we land,” I told him, interrupting, “No way.”

“C’mon, get up,” I told him, giving him a gentle shove to persuade him off my lap.

Eventually we were both standing, and now about to attempt to get out into the aisle. To my great delight, the kind man, who sat at Dan’s other side, and his wife were both awake. There was no way I wanted to ask to get past the mean lady; that wouldn’t go well. As a last minute thought, I grabbed Dan’s sick bag from where I’d laid it on the floor. Good thing it was well sealed, it had been lying around for a good few hours.

The kind man and his wife made no delay in letting us past and we made our way to the toilets. Dan was shaking the whole way there, just at the thought of the tiny cubicle.

“Just gonna put this in the bin,” I told him, going ahead and putting the sickbag in the toilet’s bin.

I was back out in the corridor in a matter of seconds, where I now had the challenge of getting Dan into the toilet.

“Okay,” I said, studying the door, “I’m going to hold the door for you. Just go in there and I’ll shut it over and keep my fingers in it. It won’t be locked or even completely shut. Think you’ll manage?”

“I guess I’ll try,” he said quietly.

“I’m right here, remember,” I told him as he walked into to the toilet and I shut over the door like we’d agreed.

I briefly thought about telling Dan a story, to keep his mind off the situation, but when I heard the tinkle of pee hitting the toilet bowl, it sounded like he was doing alright. Instead, I whistled a tune, a gentle reminder that I was there.

I heard the toilet flush and then a zipper zip. I opened up the door to reveal Dan washing his hands in the sink. He was still crying a little but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could’ve been.

“Alright?” I asked, pulling him into a brief hug, “That was alright, yeah?”

“Yeah I guess.“

“Good,” I said, “Now while we’re here, I might just go for a visit too, so I don’t have to leave you alone later.”

I hurried into the small toilet that Dan had just vacated and went about my business as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave him alone out there for any longer than was necessary. I could partially see why Dan struggled so much with the confines of the plane toilet: it was smaller than the average cubicle, and contained a sink, there was barely enough room for one to stretch an arm out or turn around, never mind a six-foot something grown man.

When we got back to our seats, Dan resumed watching the film he had been watching before the turbulence hit. Films were another good way of getting your mind of off something. I continued with my film too, but again, I couldn’t entirely focus on it, still keeping a portion of my attention on Dan to see how he was coping. Between us, I had taken his hand in mine and they sat there, entertwined.  
The rest of the flight was relatively calm. We both slept a little more but the timezones made it difficult. I knew we would be in for a few jetlag recovery days when we got home.

When the plane touched down on the runway, Dan let out a sigh of relief, “We didn’t die!”

“No, we didn’t,” I agreed, a smile on my face to show I shared his relief, “And we’re getting out of here very soon.”

“Good,” he replied, “I hate feeling trapped.”

I don’t know what thought crossed his mind there, but I saw a sadness return to his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I.. Why can’t everyone else cope with flying but I’m a fucking mess? Why doesn’t everyone else feel sick and trapped and like they’re going to die? Why doesn’t everyone throw up during turbulence because they’re petrified for their life?” he blurted loudly.

Dan continued his string of questions, now getting looks from some of the other passengers.

“Dan,” I said, trying to get his attention.

“Dan.” I waved a hand in front of his face.

He was completely zoned out and I could feel like he was heading in the direction of some sort of existential crisis.

“Dan,” I repeated, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a gentle shake, “C’mon bear, look at me.”

This time Dan did look into my eyes. I took the opportunity to pull him into my chest, to muffle his words.

“It’s okay,” I told him, for what felt like the millionth time this flight, “You’re just scared. Everybody has fears; you’re not alone. You can rant about it as much as you need when we get home, and you can have as many uninterrupted hugs as you want, okay.”

“Thanks Phil, I love you,” Dan said, nuzzling into my chest.

“I love you too,” I told him, now taking note that the plane had stopped moving.

The announcement sounded, telling us the local time and weather and people started to get up from their seats. Dan noticed and tried to wiggle out of my arms.

“Just wait,” I told him, “Give them a minute or two otherwise we’ll be in the middle of everyone trying to get out.”

“Okay,” Dan nodded, submissively.

It only took a minute or two for nearly everyone to get off the plane. It was only then that I took Dan’s hand, grabbed our stuff from the overhead locker and made our way to the door of the plane.

A short walk later we were in the airport and waiting in the line for passport control. Dan seemed a lot happier now we were in a relatively open space, rather than the confines of a plane.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked him, wanting to know how he was actually feeling.

“A bit, I guess,” he said, sounding a tad unsure, “I don’t feel quite so anxious but I don’t feel good.”

“Do you know what doesn’t feel good?” I asked him, concerned in case he was feeling sick again.

“I don’t know, my head feels a bit, I dunno, foggy,” he told me, “And my stomach’s not right; I’m not going to throw up but it’s just not right.”

“Okay, tell me if you feel any worse,” I told him, squeezing his hand.

“Yep,” he replied shortly.

We showed our passports and got through with no trouble. It was then on to baggage reclaim, a long walk through the airport. As we walked, I mentioned to Dan the two girls I had talked to on the plane earlier, and I said we’d probably talk to them in the airport if we hadn’t on the plane.

“Are you alright to talk to them if we see them?” I asked him, not wanting to make him if he wasn’t feeling up to it.

“Yeah, that’s fine - just as long as there’s no more than the two,” he replied.

In the baggage reclaim hall, there were numerous rotating conveyor belts. We headed in the direction of the one for our flight. There weren’t a lot of bags left on it now as we’d been behind the main rush of people getting off the plane.

“I’m gonna sit down,” Dan told me, as we passed a bench, “Can you get my case for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” I told him, stopping and letting him sit down, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep,” he said sounding unnaturally cheery, “I just needed a seat that’s all.”

“Right,” I said, unconvinced, “Stay there. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I hurried towards the conveyor belt, grabbing Dan’s suitcase before it disappeared. Then I waited for mine, which wasn’t far away. Pulling it off the conveyor belt, I hurried back to Dan’s bench. He was sitting, head in hands, looking miserable. I sat down next to him and curled my arm around him.

“Hey,” I said, “I’ve got them. We can go now.”

“Don’t rush yourself though,” I added as an afterthought.

I looked up from Dan and saw the two girls from the plane standing a few metres away. I beckoned them over.

“Hey,” I said, once they were close enough to speak to.

“Hi,” they replied nervously.

“Is Dan feeling better?” the blue haired one added.

“A bit,” Dan spoke, surprising all of us, “But flying’s not my strong point.”

“What are your names?” I asked the girls, “I forgot to ask you earlier.”

“I’m Emily,” the blue haired one said.

“And I’m Dana,” added the blonde one.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I told them, “And thank you for being so patient. Now do you want a hug? A selfie?”

“Both would be great!” Dana replied.

Dan tapped on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “I don’t think I can hug them,” he told me.

“Okay,” I told him, respecting his decision. The girls may be disappointed but they knew Dan wasn’t feeling well, I’m sure they would understand.

“Just hugs from me today,” I told them, getting to my feet.

“Sorry,” Dan added.

“It’s fine,” Emily told him, “This is amazing enough, we don’t mind.”

I hugged both the girls in turn and then got them organised to take selfies. I got them to sit down on the bench with us because I didn’t want Dan standing up without talking to him first.

They thanked us and we said goodbye. As they walked into the distance I turned to Dan.

“Are you alright to go?” I asked him.

“Yep,” he said, again, not sounding very convincing.

I got to my feet and offered him a hand up. He took the hand and got to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. I grabbed his shoulder with my other hand to steady him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked him, now genuinely worried.

“Yeah, just a bit wobbly,” he told me, “I think I’m just getting used to being on the ground again.”

We started heading out of the baggage reclaim area, towards the arrivals area, where family would wait for you on your return. I kept close to Dan; he probably was going to be fine, but I was allowed to be worried.

Nothing would have prepared me for what happened when we walked out into the arrivals area. I had been focusing too much on Dan to notice the flocks of teenage girls before they came rushing towards us. It all seemed to happen in slow motion: I looked up, saw them coming from all directions and then Dan looked up. His eyes went wide in shock, then shut and he started falling backwards. I was close enough to reach my arms out and catch him, then lower him gently to the floor. I slid his backpack off his back and pushed it out of the way so he was now lying properly on the floor.

I think he fainted. That seemed the most likely explanation, with how he’d been feeling since we got off the plane and how he usually panicked in situations like this. I put the crowd around us out of mind and tried my best to concentrate and think what I had to do. I’d dealt with Dan fainting before; it wasn’t a common occurrence, but it had happened once or twice in the years I’d known him. I checked his pulse and that he was breathing - they were both fine. Now it was a case of waiting, he would be fine if he woke up in the next minute or two. Any longer and I suppose I’d have to call an ambulance, but I hoped we wouldn’t have to go there.

I got out my phone so I could keep an eye on the time. Then I reached for my suitcase, opened it up, and pulled out the first hoodie I could find. I folded it neatly and slid it under Dan’s head. I didn’t want him to have to deal with a sore head on top of everything else when he woke up.

I looked up and saw a circle of concerned faces above us. They needed to move. They were way too close. If Dan woke up now, well I didn’t want to know how he’d react.

“GUYS QUIET!” I said, trying to shout above the din that they were creating.

It seemed to take forever but the noise lulled.

“I understand you are all concerned about Dan, but can you please go home. He’s fainted and he should be okay but the last thing he needs is a load of people surrounding him when he wakes up,” I told them, “Sorry to disappoint you but there will be no selfies or hugs and can you not spread pictures of this around the internet.”

Slowly, they started to move away. Not everyone went, that would never happen, but the number of people surrounding us decreased dramatically.

It was now nearing a minute since he had fainted and I was wondering whether I should be getting worried. Was there something else I should have done? Should I get someone to find me a medical professional?

He was still breathing fine; maybe I should try to talk to him.

“Dan,” I said, bending down so my mouth was level with his ear, “Dan.”

I sat back up and waited for a response.

“Hmmm,” Dan said, his eyes opening and then scrunching up in response to the light. He started trying to push himself up from the floor.

“Woah,” I said, gripping his arm to stop him sitting up, “Not so fast.”

“Why’m I on the floor? Why won’t you let me get up?” he mumbled.

“You need to stay there a bit longer, okay,” I told him, “You fainted.”

“What? Why? Fuck, there’s loads of people,” he said, his voice panicked.

“No, no. It’s okay, they’ve gone now,” I told him, “Look when you’re ready, you’ll see.”

Dan lifted a hand to shield his eyes and then peered through his fingers, “Ahh good.”

I let Dan shift his head onto my lap, and then a couple of minutes later, I helped him to a seated position.

“You don’t feel dizzy, do you?” I asked him.

“No, I think I’m okay,” he said.

At this point an older girl, maybe around eighteen tapped me on the shoulder, “I’m sorry to interrupt but do you need anything. Some water? Chocolate? A member of the airport staff?”

“Umm,” I said, thinking about her offer, “Some chocolate might help, and maybe crisps - just ready salted. I’ve got water. Hold on, I’ll get you some money.”

“Don’t worry about it, Phil,” she said, “I’m happy to help.”

The girl took off to the small shop unit nearby. I must remember to thank her when she returned.

I pulled a bottle of water out of my rucksack and handed it to Dan, “Here, have a drink,” I told him.

Dan sipped at the water, while I kept my arm securely across his back. I was thinking about what made him faint. His anxiety and the sudden onslaught of people played a big part in it, but I also suspected that he needed to eat. He hadn’t eaten a thing since leaving the airport in LA. I’d tried to make him eat something on the plane, but he was scared he wouldn’t be able to keep it down. I really hoped he would eat the food the girl was bringing us, or at least try to.

“Hey,” the girl said, returning with a small chocolate bar, “I got you these. Also, do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Thank you so much,” I thanked her, “And Dan’s…”

“Not good with flying,” he finished, “Or crowds.”

“Okay,” the girl said, nodding, “I won’t ask any more but I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks,” he replied.

I handed Dan the chocolate bar and the crisps, “You need to eat something,” I told him.

“I never asked your name,” I said to the girl.

“Suzie,” she replied.

“It’s nice to meet you, Suzie, and thanks so much for helping,” I said to her.

“Honestly, it’s no problem. I wouldn’t have tried to come and meet you guys at the airport if I knew about Dan but seeing as I was here I felt I should help out. Is there anything else I can do? Organise a taxi for you? Anything?”

“Thanks for the offer, but we already have a taxi,” I told her, “If you could find a luggage trolley and help us to the taxi with it though, that would be amazing.”

“Sure,” she said, now leaving to go and find a luggage trolley.

Dan had eaten one square of the chocolate and had now opened the crisps. He ate two or three and then stopped.

“You’re not going to have any more?” I asked him.

“Not right now,” he replied, “I want to make sure I feel alright after a few before I eat the whole packet.”

“Dan, I’m pretty sure you’re body needs food,” I told him, voicing my earlier thoughts, “I’m pretty sure that’s part of why you fainted.”

“I will eat them,” he retaliated, “Just not right now.”

“Okay,” I replied, moving to whisper the next bit in his ear, “And we’re going to order pizza and watch movies and cuddle when we get home.”

Dan smiled at this suggestion. I think it was what he needed, a proper chance to relax. We waited for Suzie to return with a luggage trolley and when she did, I loaded it up. Then I reached out to help Dan to his feet. There was a moment where I thought he might faint again as he seemed a bit unsteady. I hooked my arms under his and held onto him until he seemed more steady.

Suzie watched with a nervous, worried expression, as did some of the other people in the vicinity. Checking with him that he felt okay first, I moved so I had one arm around him and invited him to put an arm around me. That way we walked to our taxi, while Suzie kindly pushed the trolley with our luggage. Dan seemed fine now, but I didn’t want to leave him standing alone, not just yet, especially when it was the hard pavement we were walking on.

I told Dan to get into the cab and leave the luggage for me. Suzie held the trolley while the driver and I lifted the cases into the boot. When the lid shut with a ‘thunk’ I turned to thank her once more.

“Thank you so much for helping out,” I said to her, “And do you have twitter? May I ask what your at is?”

She let out an excited squeal, clapped a hand across her mouth, looking embarrassed and then told me her username. I opened up her profile and hit the follow button, watching her eyes go wide in delight.

“I might want to send you a little message when Dan is feeling better,” I told her, “Anyway, thanks again, but we best be going. We’ve got jetlag to fight and food to order. We’ll hopefully see you again sometime.”

I got into the taxi, next to Dan and wished one last goodbye to Suzie, before we were off, leaving behind the airport and heading home.

—–  
The cab drew up outside our flat. The entire journey I had spent with my arms around Dan. I was glad to see that he was no longer crying, breathing funny or showing any signs of panic. Yes, it would probably take him a day or two to get back to his usual self, but he seemed significantly better already.

He had finished the packet of crisps, eventually concluding that he was hungry and that the food was helping. I was planning for us to have pizza and films in bed when we got in, but first we had the challenge of getting our suitcases up the stairs.

Getting them out of the car and into the lobby area was easy enough but a challenge lay ahead.

“Dan, honestly, do you think you can manage your suitcase?” I asked him. I didn’t really want him to have to take it, but otherwise I would have to make three trips.

“Yeah, I think I’m up to it,” he told me.

“Good,” I said, “Just take it slow though, okay, and please stop if you need to.”

I let Dan go ahead up the stairs and followed behind him, arduously pulling my own suitcase up. Fortunately there were no incidents. We got them into our flat and abandoned them near the door. The final flight of stairs could wait until the morning.

I voiced my plans for the evening to Dan, “Do you wanna go put pjs on and we’ll order pizza and watch films in my bed?”

Dan looked thoughtful and I waited for his response.

“Could I maybe shower first?” he asked, “I feel all gross from the plane.”

“Ummm…” I said thinking.

Was letting Dan shower a good idea if he’d just fainted less than half an hour ago? I didn’t really want to tell him he couldn’t though. Should I shower with him? That could work, we did it sometimes anyway.

“Yes,” I told him, “And sorry to be annoying, but I’m coming with you.”

“It’s not annoying; I like showering with you, even when we don’t do anything. Plus, I get you’re worried about me and you probably need to shower too,” he told me.

“Are you saying I smell?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, well we both do probably - of stale plane air,” he said.

“Alright, let’s go find some pjs - I’ll meet you back down here in five,” I told him, now going up the final flight of stairs to where our rooms were.

In my room, I pulled a pair of clean pyjamas out of my drawer; Dan would be doing the same in his room. Although we were together, we still used the two rooms. It was mainly to keep up the pretence of being platonic for the videos, but there were all sorts of factors. Sometimes Dan would sleep in his room if he’d stayed up to four am editing. Sometimes we would sleep separately if one of us was ill and didn’t want the other catching it. We couldn’t keep all our stuff in the one room, anyhow. There wouldn’t be enough space.

Dan had beaten me back to the bathroom and had his shirt off, in the middle of the process of taking his clothes off. I did the same and stepped into the shower just after him. The droplets of water falling over our heads, I picked up the shower gel - flower scented, courtesy of me - and squirted a liberal amount into my hand.

I lathered the soap over Dan’s body, and then my own. For him, I took slightly longer over it, lightly massaging him as I went. I rushed over my own body, not wanting this shower to take longer than was necessary. I let Dan do his own hair - although I’m sure he’d like it, I knew a head massage wouldn’t do him much benefit. After rinsing off the remains of the shampoo, I brought my arms around him, and hugged him once more. There was something special about being able to hug naked, alone. It felt a lot more intimate but didn’t have to be sexual. It feels almost magical to be that close to the one you love. We both needed it; being so close without actually doing the do.

Our embrace left the shower and I wrapped a towel around the pair of us, keeping us warm like the contents of a flask. It was a good few minutes before we left the warmth of the towel and each other's’ arms and clambered into our respective pyjamas.

I followed Dan up the stairs to my room, where he sat next to me on my bed, both of us leaning against the headboard. I had grabbed my laptop on the way and was now opening it up to order pizza online. I brought up the website and we scrolled through a number of options and deals. Eventually we decided on a large pizza to share. It was always difficult to gauge how much one would be able to eat when they’d been feeling ill or been eating off schedule, but it seemed about the right amount.

“Phil, while we’re waiting for the pizza, could you maybe check there aren’t pictures of me all over the internet?” Dan asked suddenly, “I’m kinda scared to do it myself.”

“Yeah, of course,” I told him, opening up a new tab and loading twitter. I angled the laptop away from him so he didn’t have to see if it was there. Nervously I opened my notifications to see my mentions. They were filled pictures of Dan and I on the airport floor.

“Dan,” I said, feeling I had to tell him, “I’m not gonna lie, pictures have been spread. Don’t worry though, I’m going to tweet and do my best to get people to take it down.”

“Can I see?” he asked me.

“Yeah, if you’re sure,” I replied, turning the laptop back to where we could both see it.

Dan put two fingers on the trackpad and started scrolling down my mentions.

“It’s everywhere,” he groaned, “WHY DID I HAVE TO FAINT IN A FUCKING AIRPORT?”

“Dan, it’s not everywhere, it’s just a lot of people have tagged me in it,” I told him, “Let me tweet and see what I can do.”

I clicked on the box to tweet and started typing…

Can everyone who has uploaded or shared pictures of Dan and I at the airport please take them down or unshare them?

@AmazingPhil He doesn’t want them shared around and I’m sure you would all feel the same way if they were of you

@AmazingPhil Also for those of you concerned, he is feeling better now

I made a string of three tweets in the end, approving each with Dan before clicking the ‘tweet’ button. I really hoped everyone would get the message, but deep down, I knew there would always be a few who didn’t care.

I refreshed my mentions page, and scrolling down, the occurrences of the photo were less. Satisfied that I was having some effect, I took to tumblr, copying my three tweets into a text post. I didn’t hang around to see the effects of that take place, knowing that there wasn’t really much else I could do.

“Hopefully most of them will respect you and take it down,” I told him, “I’ve done all I can at the moment.”

“Thanks,” he said, “Can I sign into my twitter so I can retweet the first one.”

“Sure,” I said, sliding the laptop more into his lap.

Dan retweeted my tweet, not saying anything else, and then shut the laptop and put it out of the way. Seconds later the door buzzer went, informing me the pizza man was here.

“You pick out a film,” I told Dan, passing him the TV remote as I got up, “I’ll go get the pizza.”

I let the pizza man into the building and waited at our front door for him to come up the many stairs. A few minutes later he was at our door. Taking the pizza from him, I thanked him and gave him a couple of pounds as a tip. I locked the door and turned the lights off as I went back up the stairs, knowing neither of us would want to go back down later.

I made a brief stop at the kitchen to make two glasses of ribena and then continued on my way to my room. Putting the juice on the bedside table, I sat back down next to Dan on the bed and spread the pizza box across our laps. He pressed play on the film and we got down to eating.

An hour and a half later, some crumbs were all that remained in the box, there were two empty glasses next to us and the credits were rolling. At some point during the film Dan had crawled between my legs and made himself comfy, leaning back against my chest. My arms were loosely wrapped around him. I felt relaxed - even I had to admit flying was stressful. We both needed some sleep, and even if it didn’t help the longer-term jetlag, sleep was what we were going to do.

I laid the pizza box down on the floor, put the TV on standby, and turned off the lamp. I straightened the duvet and pulled it up over us as we lay down. I pulled him closer, if that was even possible; then our embrace faded into nothingness, our breathing the only thing that disturbed the darkness around us.

—–  
I was the first to wake up, but it wasn’t early. Sunlight poured like a waterfall through the gaps around the blinds, spreading bright patterns across the room. Dan was still fast asleep beside me, but I was awake and I was hungry. Carefully I pulled myself away from him and got out of bed, doing my best not to wake him. Breakfast in bed would be a nice surprise, right. Rubbing sleep out of my eyes, I put on my slippers and glasses and strolled sleepily to the kitchen.

I took two bowls from the cupboard and filled them with Dan’s cereal. I opened the fridge to get the milk out… oh. We didn’t have any milk, or much else for that matter. We’d used up all the food before we left so it didn’t go off while we were away. I’d need to do a food order, unless we wanted dry cereal for breakfast, which I didn’t.

I returned to my room and grabbed my laptop, sitting down next to Dan on the bed. He could wake up now if he wanted; my breakfast in bed plan wasn’t going to happen now.

Having loaded up the website, I realised I really needed Dan’s input on what to buy. He was going to be eating it too, after all.

“Dan,” I said softly, grabbing his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake, “Bear, it’s time to get up.”

“Ughh, five more minutes,” he groaned sleepily.

“We need to order food,” I told him, now leaning down to give him a kiss.

“Nooo, morning breath,” he complained, turning away from me.

I laughed, “Come on then, get up and we can go sort that.”

Dan pushed himself up slowly and rubbed his eyes, yawning and then stretching.

“You said somethin’ about food,” he said, “Did you make breakfast?”

“We have cereal,” I told him, “But no milk. I’m gonna do a food order but you need to help choose what to get.”

Dan and I spent the next fifteen minutes choosing food to refill our fridge. We could’ve spent way longer adding unnecessary snacks to our basket, but the sooner we ordered it, the sooner we got breakfast.

Order done, I put my laptop to the side and cuddled up next to Dan, “How’re you feeling this morning?” I asked him.

“A lot better,” Dan said, smiling, “I’m back in my natural habitat with no aeroplanes or small spaces.”

“That’s good,” I laughed.

“You know that girl that helped us out at the airport yesterday… Suzie?” Dan said.

“Yeah…”

“You got her twitter, right?” he asked, “I was a bit out of it.”

“Yeah, I followed her, thought that might be a nice little thank you,” I explained.

“Okay, can I get her at from you? I want to send her a personal thank you message,” Dan asked.

“Awww,” I cooed, “That’s sweet.”

Dan opened up his twitter on his laptop and I told him the username. He clicked the follow button and then opened up the DMs.

“What should I say?” He thought aloud.

I watched the screen as Dan’s fingers flew across the keys, constructing a message.

Hey, it’s Dan (though you’ve probably figured that out),

Phil thanked you yesterday for helping us out but I was a bit out of it so THANK YOUU!! In terms of why I fainted, there’s more to it than what Phil and I told you yesterday and I feel I can trust you with this (also I might make a video about it soon). So to get to the point, I have anxiety. In particular, I am claustrophobic - terrified of small spaces such as planes and crowds.

It hadn’t been a good flight, we’d booked first class seats for the extra space but they’d been double-booked so we had to to travel economy class. I might’ve been okay for with that if it wasn’t for the the terrible turbulence. I felt like I was going to die, which I didn’t, gladly, but I did throw up. Phil managed to find the airsickness bag in time fortunately. Anyway, as you can guess I was feeling pretty shit. I hadn’t eaten since we left LA either as I felt like I probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down if I did.

So yeah, I wasn’t feeling good when we were walking through the airport and the possibility of a bunch of fans at arrivals hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everyone just rushed all at once and that, on top of everything else was just too much.

Anyway, that’s over now and I’m feeling a lot better today and I realised you needed thanked. You were brilliant for helping me and phil yesterday and I appreciate it a lot. Yesterday made me realise that a lot of you guys may understand my anxiety and I feel like I may be ready to talk about it soon. In the meantime, I hope you can keep this quiet (but it shouldn’t be too long dw)

Thank you,

:Dan

“Do you think that’s alright to send?” Dan asked me.

Skimming it over once more, I nodded, “If you’re sure about sharing all of that.”

“Yep.”

“Go for it then,” I told him.

Dan hit the send button and then shut twitter.

“We can check back for a reply later,” he laughed, “As that may take a while for her to process.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I think she was struggling not to full on fangirl yesterday.”

“So Dan,” I said, changing the subject, “You think you might make a video about it?”

“I’m feeling now that it would be better if they all knew. Like I know it’s difficult for me to talk about but I’d feel better giving them the truth… like when I’ve had to miss meetups, or leave early, we’ve used so many excuses. I know some won’t, but I think there’s a lot of them who’ll understand,” he explained.

“I get where you’re coming from,” I said, “But we’ve discussed this before and you thought you’d be too exposed and you thought that people might think you’re using it as an excuse. I’m not trying to sway you from your decision, but I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I have thought about it; I’m ready to face it now,” he told me, his tone almost argumentative.

“If you’re absolutely sure,” I told him, “But please don’t rush it, this is an important decision to be making. I’ll help you with the filming if you want when the time comes, okay?”

“Yeah, maybe this afternoon?” Dan said nervously, “I don’t want to leave it too long after this whole airport thing.““Yeah, okay,” I agreed, silently hoping he would decide to take longer to think about it or at least not publish the video immediately.

The food delivery was quite well timed; it had waited until after we’d finished our conversation. We got up to take it in and spent the next while filling up our fridge and cupboards. Then we ate breakfast. If we’d had breakfast first then the food would have never been put away.

We took our bowls of cereal and milk to the living room where we put on an anime. It had become routine for us to eat breakfast together watching an episode and it was quite a good system. I think we both agreed on that. It didn’t matter if we didn’t eat breakfast until the afternoon, it was still a nice start to the day.

—–  
Later on in the day Dan filmed the video. As I’d offered, I was helping him with it. I was sitting on a chair behind the camera, ready to jump in and give any moral support if he needed it.

“Hello Internet,” Dan greeted the camera.

“So firstly, this is actually a serious video,” he started, “I have something to talk to you about.”

“So, you may have seen images such as this one,” Dan paused, leaving a space for an image to be added later, “And yes that is me passed out on the airport floor. Phil explained to everyone there at the time that I wasn’t feeling well, and yes, that is true, but there is more to it than that. This is something I haven’t spoken about before because it’s quite personal and I don’t want it to define me, but I feel like a number of you guys will understand.”

Dan stopped, took a breath and then dropped the bomb, “I have an anxiety disorder.”

Dan took a shaky breath and looked up at me. He had tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. I jumped up from my seat and went to envelop him in a hug.

“It’s alright,” I told him, giving him a small kiss, “Take as much time as you need.”

I wiped the tears from his eyes and slowly released him from the hug and returned to my own seat, letting him continue the video.

“Now, all my life I’ve been scared of small spaces, flying and crowds. These are all related; to put it under a general umbrella, I’m extremely claustrophobic,” he explained, putting on a brave fact. “Let’s put it in the context of yesterday. I was flying back from America. Flying is bad enough at it is, but this was a particularly bad flight for me. Me and Phil’s seats got double-booked and we ended up in economy class with no space. Not long into the flight, we hit some bad turbulence and I won’t go into detail, but I had one of the worst panic attacks I’ve ever had.”

“Now fast-forward a few hours to when we’d landed and were about to leave the airport. I still wasn’t feeling good, and along with having not eaten in over ten hours, I was feeling a bit light-headed. We walked out into the arrivals area and were met by an onslaught of you guys. Now, I know those of you that were there thought this would be a nice surprise and I’m not angry at you, you didn’t know. Anyway, I fainted. Phil was amazing,” he laughed, “And managed look after me and get everyone to back away.”

“That wasn’t easy; I had to yell pretty loud,” I added, from out of shot. Dan could always edit out that comment if he didn’t want it.

“So that’s the story of what happened in the airport,” he concluded.

“Now, I don’t want you guys to treat me any different after this video. I just want you to be aware so you understand if maybe I miss a meet up, or can’t meet you at the airport, or something along those lines. I do my absolute best, but it can be really difficult and I hope you understand that.”

Dan stopped speaking, looked at the camera for a few seconds, before continuing to do a standard outro, telling people to click here to subscribe and that they can see his last video there.

“I think that’s it,” Dan said shakily, looking up at me, “Do you think it was alright?”

“Yes,” I told him, “And you did it great pretty much getting it all in one shot.”

He had messed up the wording with a couple of things and had had to start over, but he did pretty well. I was willing to bet he’d been planning his wording in his head for a while beforehand.

I got up from my seat, pressed the shutter button on the camera to stop it filming and then went over to Dan.

“You alright?” I asked him, throwing my arms around him, “You still feel like posting this?”

“Yep, I’m fine and I might try to edit it and get it up today,” he told me.

“Okay,” I said, nodding, “Just remember, it’s okay if you change your mind.”

“Yes, Phil, I know,” Dan confirmed, “I’m sure about this.”

—–  
Dan spent the afternoon editing and now it was around nine pm and he had the video uploading. It was in its final stages of processing, before he clicked ‘publish’ and put it out for the whole internet to see. I’d come up to the office to see how he was doing and decided to stay as the video was so close to being up. I sat down on the chair I used for gaming videos and scooted it as close to Dan as I could get. I wanted to be there for him if he needed me, if anyone was mean in the comments.

The video finished processing and now all that was left was clicking the go button. Dan took the mouse and hovered over it, took a deep breath and clicked. He had the tweet and tumblr post ready to too, and it all it took was another couple of clicks of the mouse.

“Now we wait,” he said, tipping the chair back, “And see how they react.”

Overall, the reaction to the video was great. Most people were kind and supportive, a number told of their own anxiety and how they could relate. As we’d predicted, there were some who didn’t get it, but I forced Dan not to linger on these comments and move onto reading some more positive ones.

That night, I again went to bed with Dan in my arms. He was feeling a million times better than the day before, and felt a lot more relaxed about no longer having to hide that part of himself. Although he sometimes felt like it did, his anxiety would not define him. It was just another part of his character, and although an inconvenience at times, I loved him for every little bit of himself.


End file.
